Of Finders and Thieves
by the tedium
Summary: Gilbert Beilschmidt wasn't too sure why he wanted to make a blog. Perhaps an outlet, with all the drama in his life maybe rambling to complete strangers would do him good, or maybe he was seeking the attention of Elizabeta Héderváry. All Human AU.
1. Introduction

Introduction

Gilbert Beilschmidt wasn't too sure why he wanted to make a blog. Like everyone else he had a Facebook account - a MySpace too when it was popular - but had quickly moved on to Twitter. He didn't understand Instagram, some people made fun of it and those who used it were just stuck up hipsters. Some of the kids on his course at college had LiveJournal and Deviantart and an other one he couldn't remember but only Antonio had bothered to make a Tumblr. Even then it was rarely used, just some bad pictures no one re-blogged.

So why on earth was he going to make one? He had no interest in the creative part of the Internet, he had just clicked on a link by mistake and found himself searching through endless amounts of pictures, art, journal entries, comics and tons of other amazing shit and suddenly he felt compelled to be apart of this insanely wonderful world of artist and writers and vloggers and bloggers and photographers. But when he clicked on the little 'Sign Up' icon, after the page loaded, three little white boxes below the logo asking for an email, a password and a username.

Well fuck.

This suddenly had him stumped but he never thought of going back to he last page or closing the window. Instead he stared at his computer screen trying to think of the most awesome Tumblr name that may of ever existed.

_Gilbert Beilschmidt._

_Gilbert._

_G-Beilschmidt._

_Beilschmidt Is Awesome._

_I'm Awesome._

Defiantly not the last one. He shouldn't have to tell people this, they should know it from one look at him and his soon to be made blog.

The boy pondered over the matter for several more minuets before he decided on how stupid the matter was. What would he even blog about?

His photography maybe, or drawings. But there was an awful lot of those sort of blogs about. He didn't have many other skills. Gilbert was just Gilbert, he was awesome. He wasn't witty or creative, he didn't have many interesting views on things on the world, he found those outrageous theories on the governments 'secrets' to be stupid and he didn't have patience nor the enthusiasm to make anything informative or useful. He could maybe do a blog on his daily life, what and when and why, but those things were only worth a read if you were famous or actually had a life worth reading about. No, Gilbert Beilschmidt wouldn't make a blog not today. Maybe not even any other day.

He clicked on the X icon on the top right and closed the tab. It disappeared and took him to the page he had opened beneath which was his Facebook. Still opened on Chat with Antonio about some weekend plans and then nothing of interest on his timeline. Life seemed pretty empty despite Tino Väinämöinen changing his relationship status from 'in a relationship' to 'it's complicated' and this apparently had Feliks Łukasiewicz 'totes amazed'. But that wasn't anything new. Feliks was 'totes amazed' about almost anything.

There was also a cola ad, one of those shitty things with a picture of dying cats or some other unfortunate thing compelling you to 'like' or 'share' the image and if you kept scrolling you were indeed a heartless twat. Then some random post about concerts, a couple of people had changed their status to something that no one would ever be interested in hearing and Im Yong Soo uploaded another album.

Emil Steilsson had added Lukas Bondevik as his brother, Matthias Køhler and five others liked this.

Elizabeta Héderváry was in a relationship, Gilbert scrolled back over the little blue box, expecting to have read it wrong, but no. As clear as day, in little letters Elizabeta Héderváry and Roderich Edelstein were now in a relationship. Although he hadn't spoken to Elizabeta in years he still wondered why he hadn't heard of this sooner. At least not since the start of Year 11. The two had once been best friends, but high school changes people. He got involved in football - not that he was any good - and after some time Elizabeta became to much of a girl for his liking. When he first said that to her she hadn't reacted to well, beat him in the face with her rucksack and ran off home. They didn't speak for a few weeks after. Gilbert hung about with the lads on the team and Elizabeta found girl friends.

But never once in his life had Gilbert Beilschimdt ever imagined that she would go out with Roderich Edelstein. That just didn't add up, not at all.

"Shit..." Gilbert whispered as went to click onto her profile. His movements stilled as someone banged on his doors and called his name.

"Gilbert!"

"Fuck off!" He replied.

"Gilbert!"

"What?"

"I've been shouting you for a full twenty minuets, dinner is ready."

* * *

Dinner in the Beilschmidt home was always awkward. It consisted of silence, cold stares and several judgmental glances - most of them sent Gilbert's way. Not much chit-chat, a clatter of forks and knives scrapping against the crockery and such not much else. But then you wouldn't expect much from Gilbert, his younger brother and their father.

Gilbert looked up from his soup and glanced at his brother. Ludwig was frowning at his soup, not one of disgust but a frown in general. Noticing his brother stares, Ludwig glared at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

And then silence.

Then, Ludwig spoke up. "Can I stay out tonight?"

Their father looked up, thin blue eyes boring into his youngest son. "Where?"

Ludwig shrugged. "Just out. I'm going to see some friends."

"The little faggot ones?" Gilbert spoke up. An ugly smirk on his face at his brothers discomfort.

Ludwig struggled for a comeback. "They're not," He stuttered, "Feliciano Vargas and Kiku Honda are."

"Puffs?" Gilbert cut him off. The same smirk still plastered on his features. "I heard the little chink had a one night stand with Heracles Karpusi."

The father looked up from his plate, "Gilbert don't use those words." he scolded his son.

"What words?"

"You know exactly what words I mean."

"Do I?"

"Kiku Honda is Japanese, 'chink' is Chinese." Ludwig tried to defend. He hadn't yet denied the sexuality of his two friends.

"Same thing."

"No, they're really not and how do you know he had a one night stand?"

"Sadık Adnan. Guys been talking shit 'bout Heracles for months but some of it's actually true. Specially that shit on him and the chink." Gilbert let his smirk drop a little and took a sip of his drink. "And you can't deny that Feli boy is at least bent."

"Gilbert shut up." Ludwig was starting to get annoyed with his brothers comments, showing this annoyance was probably a bad thing, it only spurred Gilbert on.

"Why should I? Not saying anything hurtful."

"Just because your a homophobe doesn't mean everyone else should go out of their way to fit your needs."

"Woah, Woah, Woah, what gave you that idea?" The eldest brother said. Gilbert glared at the younger boy, the smirk gone completely. "I'll have you know some of my best friends are gay."

"Like who?"

This had Gilbert a little stumped."Francis!" he said at long last. "Francis is gay, or bi or some shit"

"Francis sleeps with anything with a pulse. Probably things without one too." Well, that was true.

"Well... Feliks, the little crossdresser at my college has to be gay, that Scandinavian lad and Lovino Vargas. Totally gay."

"Vargas?" Gilbert's father said. He looked up from his dinner. Very much used to his sons petty disagreements at the dinner table, he sat quietly and ate his dinner waiting for one - or both - to tire of the other and leave the room and him in peace. If he had the patience and effort he may have tried to break this one up, especially given the subject but this new piece of information distracted him for a second. "Feliciano's brother?"

"Yeah, he's about as straight as a circle." Gilbert leant back in his chair and carefully balanced on one leg. He quite enjoyed knowing something that no one else knew.

However Ludwig had had just about enough of this conversation. He dropped his soup spoon into the bowl with a clatter. "Lovino Vargas is not gay, neither is Feliciano. Their family are very proud Catholics."

"Well, Lovino did some very un-Catholic things with Antonio last week. Antonio, another fag and he's my friend! See I'm not homophobic and it's not like I'm offending anyone."

Ludwig didn't stay to clear away his bowl. Or even the end of Gilbert's sentence. Instead he stormed of upstairs, presumable to get ready to go out.

"Are you not going to finish your soup?" His father called after him. A little concerned for his youngest sons behaviour.

"No."

Gilbert kept his balance, folding his arms across his chest and teasing this new balance by pushing lightly against the table legs to rock a little on the spot. If had any sense he would probably of noticed his brothers actions and said something along the lines of sorry. But he didn't and he had other things on his mind.

Stuff that probably would another his dad to no end but he would say it all the same. "Did you know, Elizabeta has a boyfriend?"

"No I didn't."

Gilbert ran his hand through his hair, pale skin gliding through pale strands. "Roderich Edelstein too. I mean... Something went wrong there. Liz and Roderich? She used to hate him. Like really hate him and now, apparently they're going out. It's like jamming together two pieces of a puzzle you couldn't find the right matches for, they really don't go together."

"Love works in mysterious ways Gilbert. I didn't think you still spoke to Elizabeta."

"I don't, I just..." Gilbert never finished his sentence. Instead he lowered his body and chair to the floor then stood up to take his leave.

"Are you not going to finish your soup?"

"'M not hungry."

* * *

Gilbert whistled, three quiet but sharp notes, and the little yellow bird tweeted back. His reply not exactly matching Gilbert's but instead three other sounds. If Gilbert could speak bird and could actually understand what his little whistle meant to Gilbird - his very appropriately named chick - then maybe he try to say something smart. Maybe what he whistled just now was actually a threat or insult and Gilbird's reply was simply bird slang for 'Fuck off' or 'Dick head'. He hoped he hadn't offended the chick. Maybe he shouldn't whistle to Gilbird, to avoid insult, or maybe he just just avoid over thinking these things because it was quite absurd to think about bird insults, if birds even had insults.

He reached a hand into the cage, running a pale finger along the fluffy yellow chicks wing and tapping his thumb gently on the top of his head. _Tweet tweet_, the little bird said. _Tweet tweet_.

Gilbert grinned and Gilbird chirped, something that Gilbert assumed was the equivalent to a smile. He reached his hand into the little plastic tub and scatter the bird seed onto the floor of the cage. Gilbird tweeted again and ran over to his dinner. Pecking at the crumbs.

There wasn't much to do. Ludwig had gone out to see his friends, even if hadn't he still seemed a little pissed off at him, and their father had gone to bed early. In this house everyone did things day by day. The same actions with the same results. Wake up, go to school or college or work, cone home, have dinner, storm up to bed and sleep. The only one who broke that chain was Ludwig and his friends, or sometimes Antonio and Francis would drag him out drinking. Something he would instantly regret the next day.

But tonight wasn't one of those days. Tonight was one of those nights when Gilbert would stay up most of the night, watching films on Netflix or watching his inbox. Desperately pleading for someone to send him a message because despite his pure awesomeness it was awfully rare for him to receive an email from anyone and when they did... It kept him occupied.

He stood up, pushing off of his knees and standing in his room. His laptop was still on. Opened on Elizabeta Héderváry's Facebook profile, where, since the last time he had checked, many other had 'liked' and 'commented' on the couples status.

Unsurprisingly this also had Feliks Łukasiewicz 'totes amazed'. Only this time with a couple of X's and a smily face.

He navigated away from the page and back to the news feed. Not really news. Just some off comments about the weather, football matches and status updates from people that he honestly never gave a shit about. As he scrolled through he noticed Antonio Fernandez Carriedo posting another link to his Tumblr account. Lovino Vargas was tagged and some words in Spanish were written above the link.

Gilbert clicked the link. It took him to Antonio's account and picture he had taken of him and Vargas brothers sitting somewhere. The three boys, sitting with sun kissed skin and bright smiles - not Lovino, he was glaring - and Gilbert saw the little blue words at the too of the page again. Sign Up.

Like a command, and Gilbert followed. After the page loaded, three little white boxes below the logo asking for an email, a password and a username.

So he began typing. Not to sure why or what he was going to with a Tumblr.


	2. Entry 1

**Entry 1: The Blog of Gilbert Beilschmidt**

Gilbert felt tired. Having stayed up most of last night playing Temple Run on his iPod, he hadn't really bothered to get any sleep. He could easily skip his morning classes to sleep in then sneak in after lunch. At least that had been the plan untill Antonio called him up. Apparently his Spanish friend was yet to meet the deadlines of yet another project and needed help to gather six weeks of work in less than one day.

Which seemed such an Antonio thing to do.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a half empty packet of tictacs. Tipping a few into his palm he studded each bean-shaped sweet. Four orange and a lone green. He poured the orange back into the tub and the green into his mouth.

The oranges could fuck off, he liked the greens. Greens were boss.

Gilbert shifted on his feet, on his right to his left. One hand tucked into his hooded jacket pocket and the other was gripping his camera bag tightly. He wasn't in the mood for this, he wanted to go back to bed or even back to class not run around the city taking photographs of trees and phone boxes from artistic angles.

It was Antonio's fault. Fucking prick.

He wasn't even sure why Antonio was taking photography. The guy had ever shown interest in the subject before. For him highschool had been focused on the P.E course and modern languages - he had taken both French and Spanish - and then Food tech. Gilbert had been a little less confused by the last one, he was sure it was just to have a reason to talk to the Vargas boys.

So why had he taken photography? Gilbert didn't know. All the art subjects took up far too much time and Antonio already had to balance out his languages courses; Spanish would be easy since he was already fluent. Maybe Antonio just wanted to take the lesson to keep Gilbert company or something. Gilbert didn't need that. He didn't need laid-back-Antonio dragging him behind; but then there wasn't much else he could do with that could he.

"Oi! Gilbert!" A voice called from across the highstreet. "Oi!"

When Gilbert looked up, his grin changed from annoyance to a smirk. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Antonio stopped his shouts and all too obvious waving of arms. Which was good as a large number of people had turned to stare at the dramatic display and Gilbert didn't much like the attention it would draw his way. The Spaniard ran across the cobblestones, dodging in and out of bodies to reach his friend. Gilbert kicked off of the wall to meet him half way.

"'ey, you ready then?" He asked, turning the almost empty tictacs packet around in his hand and twisting the straps on his shoulders. His friend gave a quick nod; the two walked down the street trying to figure out what exactly they were going to photograph.

* * *

Shit.

Shit.

Sorta good if he put it into macro or cut in down so you couldn't see the pigeon in the way.

Shit.

Good.

Really bad.

Super shit.

Gilbert sighed as he reached he end of the photos, none of them were good. Well some were, but not college standard good. He clicked the off button and placed the cap back over the lens.

Man, Antonio really wasn't cut out for this.

They had spent a total of three hours out in the streets. Apparently Antonio's subject for this year was _People and Places_, so it should have been easy. Pretty much anything would fit under the category but somehow the boy had still managed to fuck it up.

"So how do they look? Pretty sweet right?" Antonio said, leaning forward on his chair. His hair the colour of rich coffee was curling up a little on one side and his face was married with a large grin that showed off each one of his teeth. In comparison to his beaming friend , Gilbert looked like a drowned rat. Hair as white as snow; each waxy cheek looked like it had been dusted over with chalk. The only colour was the bright red of the iris and the spot of blush covering his cheeks and nose from the cool air outside. If Gilbert could he would trade appearance with his friend. And personality.

Antonio was just an all round pleasant person, Gilbert on the other hand tended to piss all the wrong people off. It wasn't like he did it on purpose, it just happened. Where as Antonio just smiled and sat there bluntly unable to tell if Gilbert comments should be taken as insults or compliments. Thankfully he did the latter.

Gilbert had to be nice. Antonio was his friend after all.

"Cool, just need to edit some. Cut down a couple because they're a little out'a place. Other than that you're good to go." He quickly lied, he didn't feel bad for it. Telling someone like Antonio that they were shit at something was like kicking a puppy or punching a girl. You didn't do it. Well, if you did then you weren't a very nice person that is for sure.

"Yeah, thanks man." Antonio put his camera back into the bag and kicked it under the table. Not giving the item much care; he took a sip of his drink and his returned to same default expression. _Constant smile_. "Don't know what I would do without ya."

However Gilbert knew that without him, Francis too, Antonio would resort back to his home to eat, sleep, have sex with Lovino, eat, maybe masturbate, think about food or sex - maybe both at the same time.

Francis' would probably have been the same, only with more sex and drinking mixed in.

Without one another the trio probably wouldn't have gotten outside much. They needed each other to find something to do, to pull one another out of the shadows and into the streets to bother people and get drunk. That's what their friendship was. Even today, with Antonio calling him out from what should have been a sleepy morning Gilbert was still glad that he was doing something. Probably not nearly as interesting as some of the things most teenagers would do on the time that they would skip school. Just the two lads sitting together in a dimly lit café as they waited for Francis to arrive and give them something interesting to do. It was getting later in the afternoon so some of the students would come passing through there soon and like them, would sit in the corners drinking coffee and taking advantage of the free wi-fi set up in the café. Student discount was great. Especially in the town centre, even then it seemed this spot was one of the few decent places left around that still seemed somewhat affordable.

The little café wasn't much. All sweet and cosy. The back wall had old chalk boards up with the menus drawn out in pinks and yellows and the shelves bellow with ornamental teacups shaped like roosters and cows. The counters made from a lite colour of wood; a big glass counter to the side filled with cakes and other sugary things. Various seats dotted across the room, aswell as the entire left wall taken up by a staircase to the computer lounge and the right wall was hidden behind framed newspaper cutouts, and the two students had taken the usual spot close to the front windows. A little booth made up of tattered sofas and a posh leather armchair. Nothing in the café quite fit together, perhaps that was why they liked it.

The silence was broken by the beeping of Antonio's phone, he felt about in the pockets for it before tugging it from the breast pocket of his jacket. He cheeked the screen, "Lovino."

"Ah, of course it is." Gilbert said. "What does he want?"

Antonio ignored him. Too intrigued with his boyfriends texts. Was Lovino his boyfriend? Gilbert paid enough attention to his friend to know that the two had slept together on more than one occasion, they certainly spent a lot of time together. But that didn't seem like enough to make the two boyfriends.

Maybe it as casual, that would explain why Lovino was always so pissed about Antonio's public affection, but then why would he be calling? Unless he and Antonio were going to hook up.

Gilbert instantly felt awkward.

It wasn't like he had anything wrong with people being gay, not at all, he just didn't much ike it being there. Right in front of him. Which seemed unfortunate because he was friends with two of the most openly _affectionate _people at his college.

Gilbert was broke from his thoughts when Antonio laughed. He glanced up, to see the boy tossing his phone into the same bag as his camera. It missed and clattered against the floor. Antonio didn't pick it up but instead pulled his feet up to rest on the table. "Lovino just got off, meeting us here then we're heading out."

Gilbert cringed. "Perfect." It was a well known fact that Lovino Vargas didn't like Gilbert. Or his brother for that matter. Gilbert couldn't be sure why, as far as he knew he had ever done anything to upset the guy.

Apart from exist.

Antonio raised a brow, "You staying?"

"Nah, I got stuff to do." He lied with a quick sip of his coffee. The lack of plans Gilbert had made for the day suddenly reminded Gilbert of how lonely he actually was. Antonio would be off doing God knows what with Lovino Vargas and he hadn't the faintest clue where Francis was. Maybe he would go home. From what he remembered Ludwig got home from school in about an hour and he would usually have a friend over - it would take Gilbert about the same amount of time if he got off the bus sooner and went to get a takeaway - so he could spend the rest of his evening bothering them.

Gilbert ran his hand through his hair and he leant back in his chair. Across the room a few people were chatting quietly to themselves and a brief noise and clatter from the kitchen acted as background noise to Antonio's phone clicking. Despite sitting only a few metres away from his best friend, Gilbert still felt very alone.

Then the little wind chimes above the door knocked about and clattered a song to alert that people were entering. Then just by luck it was several groups of kids from his college. Some he didn't recognise merged in with some he did. A few couples, walking close together or holding hands as they chatted quietly, and then several in large groups.

Ivan Braginski and his friends, if you could call them that, they seemed to be just close acquaintances who were too scared to leave his side for better company, remained close by the door for a few minuets. Eduard (Gilbert was only a little sure of his name, he only knew the guy from his media class) was helping Katyusha remove her coat and Toris chatted quietly to the flamboyant Polish lad in a bright pink and yellow stripped jumper. The German boys gaze may have lingered for a short while at Ivan's elder sisters chest but he tried to look anywhere else when the Russian looked over in his direction. Gilbert tried his best to stay clear of the eastern Europeans, some of them were just plain bonkers. They lingered in the door way untill someone pushed past roughly.

"Move goddamnit!"

Antonio looked up at the voice. "Ah, hey Lovino!" He called out to the pusher. Lovino Vargas, caught somewhere between Toris' arm and Katyusha's breast area - which in Gilbert's, and possibly every other straight guy in their college, wasn't a bad place to be caught - then gave one last push before he tumbled forwards into several chairs. He turned back to mutter at the group before he walked over to where Antonio and Gilbert sat. A smile, however brief it was, lingered on his face before he noticed the white-haired boy. Then his expression turned to a cold glare.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" The Italian boy shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the arm rest next to Antonio. He pushed past the tangle of camera bags and legs to sit down.

"Well that's rude." Gilbert said. He lifted his coffee from the table and tried to ignore the way it scorched his skin a little. "I was here first, doesn't matter anyway. I'll be gone soon."

"Hmm." Lovino frowned, not noticing Antonio shift closer to him.

The chimes ring again and more people rush on in to the café. Either going directly to seats or straying behind fora moment to decide. Gilbert watches each one of them and when he turns back to his friends, he finds Lovino Vargas staring at the ground as Antonio cuddled in closer.

Gilbert instantly felt awkward.

"I gotta go." He says, he puts his cup down with too much force and some of the remaining coffee spills over the side. Grabbing his jacket and his camera bag from the floor he leaves the internet café in a hurry. Not even bothering to say goodbye to his friends.

* * *

Watching Feliciano Vargas think about answer science questions was funny, Gilbert had decided. The look of confusion crossing his features, he would tilt his head to one side like a puppy when you pretend to throw the ball and it cannot figure out where it went, and bite his lip in a panic. "Er, the waves bend when traveling ... er, changes of ... density?"

Wrong. Even Gilbert knew that. Fuck, this boy was thick.

"That is refraction." Kiku Honda said, not looking up from the text book in his lap. He had t open on the answers page but Gilbert doubted he really needed to check. The boy was smart, he probably knew it all already.

Feliciano's face dropped a little, "Oh. I thought that was the mirror thing."

"By 'mirror thing' I will assume you mean reflection."

"Yeah that one!" Feliciano smiled and sat up straight. He looked proud of himself. "See, I know it. I am ready for the test."

Gilbert tried not to laugh, how can someone be this stupid - let us ignore the fact that Gilbert himself failed two out of three of his science exams and only just about managed to pass on his resit. He looked away from the studying teenagers and back to his laptop screen, Francis was takeing a long time to reply to his message. _Dick._

"You still haven't answered the question." Ludwig stated, the blonde pushed his glasses a little higher up his nose. "Diffraction is waves spreading out as they go through a gap."

That had Feliciano even more confused. "But Kiku said that was called reflection." He paused, the young Italian picked up a piece of paper with a large and very messy spider diagram on the front. He glanced it over, "Wait, what is refraction?"

Ludwig groaned and threw his head back against the arm rest of the sofa and Gilbert began to laugh, unable to keep it to himself any longer. It was clear that Feliciano wasn't going to be passing his physics exams anytime soon. Even after just hearing the correct answer he was still getting it confused. During his own tests Gilbert had used the excuse several times that English wasn't his first language. It had only worked on the Subs but he got away with it some days. Simple by stretching out his accent and pleading that no other student give him away - which most of them did anyway - he was excused from text books work.

Maybe Feliciano could try to do that. He looked down at his brother and his friends. When Gilbert had returned home the three where trying to revise for a test tomorrow, of course Ludwig had been revising since they were first told, it seemed that Kiku was doing okay but Feliciano hadn't seen need to study. Too bad he was friends with Ludwig. Three were all seated in the Beilschmidt's living room, text books open and spilled out across the rug. Gilbert was there because he was _Gilbert _and if someone was busy doing something and they defiantly didn't need his help he had to be there to inconvenience them in any way possible. Ludwig wasn't impressed.

After Kiku explained the difference for what seemed like the hundredth time, Feliciano claimed he could remember.

Until, "I still think they are the same thing."

"No, radio waves diffract into gaps but micro waves do not. They don't do the same thing so fit under different categories." Gilbert spoke up, he poked his pale face over the top of his laptop.

"Really?"

"I think so." He replied.

Ludwig said, "I wouldn't trust his words he failed his physics resit twice." He began to pack away several books into his rucksack, the others took the message to do the same. "Dad was pissed."

"Fuck off you little fag!" Gilbert growled as he kicked his brother, he was still kneeling on the floor, in the ribs sending him into the coffee table. In his moment of boastful achievement he didn't notice his brothers flinch or the looks shared between either of the friends. _So he obviously hadn't told him._

When Feliciano Vargas had placed the last book into his school bag he turned to Ludwig. "Say, um, Ludwig?" The German boy looked up, Feliciano was smiling at him in a way that made his head spin a little and his stomach roll a little. "My Grandpa said it was nice meeting you last time, he wanted to know if you wanted to come over again this saturday? We're having pasta!"

"I uh-" Ludwig was blushing, which was odd because he almost never blushed. Gilbert snorted, rather loudly.

"Shut up, Gilbert!" He through a cushion at his elder brother and turned to lead his friends out of the house. He would probably go straight up to his bedroom after this, stay there untill dinner then storm back up there after having another fight with Gilbert then. He still avoided Feliciano's question.

A little duh-dum noise came from Gilbert laptop, when he looked down Francis had replied.

Just random nonsense. Some French mixed into the message and Gilbert gave up on reading half of it. Chatting with the French boy sometimes just took up too much time and effort. He only paid attention to the last half.

_U coming out 2night?_

Was he coming out tonight? It wasn't like he had any other plans. His brother already in a pissy mood with him and when his dad returned home he was sure he would also have nothing to say to him. He had nothing to do, it wasn't like he had a girlfriend he could disappoint by canceling a date or any other friends asking him to come out.

Still, he didn't feel like going out.

He replied anyway, a quick yes and asking for times and places, before even then Francis abandoned him to an empty inbox. No one wanted to talk to him, but that was alright. He was good with being alone.

He clicked the refresh button, it wasn't like he was expecting a new email or anything. He was just making sure. Imagine his surprise when he saw he had mail.

Even if it was from Tumblr. He clicked the icon, just asking for verification or some crap it brought him to his ... account.

He looked over the screen, playing about with his name and Avatar and the theme. Gilbert hated to admit it but he was actually having fun with this whole Blog thing. Even though he hadn't actually blogged anything yet.

Gilbert looked around, the house was silent. Ludwig wouldn't bother to come out of his bedroom unless needed or for food. His dad wouldn't be home for hours. He had literally nothing else to do, so why not?

- _Entry 1: The Blog of Gilbert Beilschmidt _-

That seemed like a good way to start it. He quickly checked the time, 6 o'clock - there was still plenty of time before he had to leave for Francis' house - and let his fingers glide over the keys.

This was going to be the most awesome blog ever.


	3. Entry 2

Entry 2: Of Friends

It was morning, Gilbert was sure of that, only he didn't know where this morning actually.

The clean bed sheets, a pale blue with white spots dotted across the sides, confused him. Everything smelt new, washed and clean. A little like lavender or some posh washing up powder. So it defiantly wasn't his bedroom. He was aware he was lay on the floor, on a rug no less, with these clean sheets over the top of him and his folded up jacket beneath his head acting as a pillow. He placed a hand to his face to rub sleep from his eyes. With clearer vision he could see a leg in front of him. A very hairy, tanned leg. Who was he sleeping head to toe with?

He didn't bother to look - not after realising that this leg belonged to a boy, which only slightly disturbed him. He hoped it was Antonio or Francis or else he was never going to drink again.

"Gilbert, get up." A voice called from the other side of him, not the owner of the leg. Someone else. "Gilbert." The voice got a little louder as it walked across the room, stopping beside his make shift bed and tapped a foot against his head. "Up."

Gilbert covered his eyes with both arms. "Huh?"

"Get up. Now!" The voice belonged to Francis. What was he doing in Francis' room?

Gilbert tried to lift himself into sitting position but his arms gave way and his ears started ringing. It felt like someone had just dropped a sledge-hammer onto his forehead. He slammed his hands back over his face once more. Perhaps he had got drunk again and passed out at Francis' house. No not perhaps, defiantly. "No."

The floorboards creaked a little under him as Francis walked across the room, very slowly Gilbert uncovered one eye. Blinking away the too bright morning lights he could see Francis leaning towards the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. Long, elegant fingers twisting together as they tied back his hair into a silk ribbon. "Get up, I have stuff to do and you're dribbling on my pillows."

"Well I am sorry about your fucking pillows." Gilbert said, his voice sounded gravel like and it felt like he had swallowed nails. Although Gilbert often promised he would never drink after nights like the one prior to this day, he knew very well he would break that promise come the next weekend.

"Shut up Gilbert." Antonio said from under the blankets. Gilbert shrieked as the hairy leg in front of him kicked at his shoulder. Sleeping with Antonio wasn't as horrifying as sleeping with a stranger.

Gilbert managed a laugh and pushed the foot away. He asked, "Oh, hey man what are you doing here?"

The blankets shifted and covered Antonio's head. "You two got extremely drunk."

"I can see that."

"I do not regret a thing." said Francis, still trying to perfect the blonde hair as he sprayed a fair amount of hair spray into the sleek golden locks.

Again Antonio's muffled voice spoke up, "I had to come and take care of you two. Ended up staying the night after Gilbert got a little handy."

"Uh, my head." The two boys lying on the floor turned their attention to Francis' bed. Beneath the blankets and bed-clothes a face poked out from its cocoon of duvet. It wasn't a face Gilbert recognised, a delicate looking face framed by waves of blonde hair ruffled up on one side from a bad sleeping position. The stranger sat up and rubbed his hands over his eyes as Gilbert studied his tired body and hoped that Francis hadn't shagged him while he and Antonio had been asleep on the floor.

"The fuck are you?" Gilbert said, too loud for his own hung over state. He tried not to notice that the boy was shirtless and most likely not wearing much else below the blankets. "The fuck is that?" Gilbert addressed Antonio.

"I am not too sure, Francis' new bed-mate apparently." The Spaniard smiled and propped himself up on his elbows. "He makes nice under the cover sounds."

"Oh my God." Said the stranger before slipping back under the blankets. So yes, in a true Francis Bonnefoy fashion he had shagged a complete stranger whilst two of his friends slept on the floor of his bedroom.

"That he does!" Francis said with a smile as he closed the wardrobe and pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. Francis crossed the room, dodging in and out of the discarded clothes of the stranger, Antonio and Gilbert combined, with a glass of water in hand. He sat on the bed and pulled the blankets down, maybe a little too far down as it wasn't nesscary for the other occupants to see the boys shirtless frame but then Gilbert and Francis did have very different ways of looking at the world. "Good morning, Matthew. How are you today?"

The boy in the bed took the water from Francis and downed it in one go. "Uhgh."

Gilbert ran his hand through his hair and sat up. Much like Matthew he was also lacking clothes, only it would be safe to assume that it wasn't for the same reasons as Matthew. He said a 'thankyou' when Antonio through his shirt in his direction and began to get dressed. "What exactly happened last night?"

"You got drunk on Francis' fancy wine, call me over to join you because you promised a take away. I should have known it was a load of bull crap. We then went to the pub, convinced Arthur to buy us more beer so you could get even more drunk. Oh and Francis charmed the little tourist over there into shagging him in the loos."

"Oh god!" With that Matthew disappeared back under the covers.

Francis smiled with triumph and ran his hand over the top of Matthews head. Fingers sliding into his hair, "and it was magnificent"

Matthew batted away his hands and grumbled. "Country of love my ass."

If Gilbert didn't find the situation so humourous he would have said something but instead allowed Antonio to continue. "Then we saw some people from college, got to see Berwald beat the crap out of Matthias for no reason what so ever."

Francis said. "Not true. I heard he suggest that he, Tino and the pretty Norwegian boy go back to his place for a bit of 'you know what' and I guess Berwald isn't over Tino yet."

"Oh, nice." Said Antonio, although Gilbert wasn't sure what was so nice about it. Tino's and Berwald's relationship has ended through a post of Facebook with everyone able to see it. "I cannot be sure but I think Yao Wang got sucked off in the alley way outside."

"Wh said that?"

"Me, saw him heading out there with Ivan, who came back a little while later feeling very happy with himself untill his mad sister started crying, had a fit and pulled a knife. Arthur's brother had to close up early. Then we left in a taxi, got kicked out after Francis tried to undress himself and no-name over there."

"I'm called Matthew." Still hidden by Francis' silk sheets. "and if someone could bring me my pants I would be very grateful."

"Matthew, sorry, then we got the bus and ran into a certain couple." Antonio said, raising his brow suggestively.

"Which one?" Francis asked.

"Elizabeta and Edelstein." Antonio answered. Gilbert stopped getting ready and froze up a little. He had forgotten a little about them. With a nod Antonio continued on. "I ship it. Although everyone kind of shared in an awkward moment"

Gilbert didn't like where the conversation was heading and quickly tried to change the subject. "What the fuck is actually with Edelstein? You cannot just decide not to be gay. It doesn't work like that. Does it?"

"Francis does it all the time."

"Again I have no regrets." Francis fell back on his bed, "If I remember correctly Gilbert, in your mad drunken state you stirred up quite the fuss."

"Oh God what did I do?"

"Nothing much, tried to kiss Elizabeta, tried to snog Elizabeta, almost dry humped Francis, kissed my neck because you though I was Elizabeta and then tried to kiss Rodrich." Antonio said as he pulled on his shirt, Gilbert didn't bother to tell him it was the wrong way around.

"What?"

"Yes, it was very entertaining."

"I don't remember that part."

"Ah yes, you had your hands down Martins pants."

"Matthew."

"Matthew. Sorry." Antonio said trying to pull on a pair of skinny jeans as still lay beneath the blankets. "You then sad a bunch of vulgar things i never thought i would hear you say."

"Shit!"

"Needless to say you scarred Roderich for life." Both his friends laughed and Gilbert couldn't help but feel a little stupid for his actions. "Poor man"

"Shit, that's it. I give up with life. I'm just going to stay here and sleep. Francis fuck off, I live here now." The German boy kicked hs feet at the floor and retreated back into the safe haven of his makeshift bed.

It took around thirty minuets for Francis to get his friends to get dressed. Another ten for them to leave his house and an additional five to clear away the bedclothes they hadn't bothered to put away.

"Hey Francis." Matthew said, the young Canadian boy was still hidden away and to be honest with himself Francis had forgotten that he was there with him being so quiet. He shyly pushed the blankets from his face and sat up trying his best to hide his body - still lacking clothes. "Can you pass me my shirt?"

"Uh, Qui."

"And Francis? Can you take me back to Arthur's house. I have no fucking clue where I am."

* * *

Antonio observed Gilbert as they rode the bus. He hadn't had much of a chance to just stare at him. Of course over the years he had noticed in past the little things that made him work but he hadn't taken time to do so recently. Gilbert seemed so much more mature yet at the same time naïve and useless. He didn't fit his skin; still an immature year eleven student staying up all night playing Xbox and not revising instead of the eighteen years of life his body showed off.

As the years had gone by all the fatty flesh had fallen from Gilbert's face and left hallowed out cheeks and reddened eyes slightly sunken in from too many hours spent awake in an unhealthy lifestyle. He still remained with the same body shape, however. Pale and skinny with twigs for arms. He made up for the lack of muscle in height.

The two students sat in silence on the bus ride home from Francis. The Frenchman lived in a small flat of his own in the city center, quite far from Gilbert and Antonio who remained in their families homes in the suburbs. They occasionally shared a glance in the other direction, Antonio would grin in his direction and then the silence would hang between the two untill one would look away. Gilbert choose to look out of the window. The trees going past too quickly for him to pay attention to and the pedestrians were every so often. Very few people awake on this time of day.

Gilbert scratched his chin, calloused fingers grazing over the stubble there before something moved in his pocket. It was an unfamiliar feeling but he recognised it. The soft vibrations and then a sound began to pour out of the speakers of his mobile phone and Gilbert realised that _someone _was ringing him.

No one ever rang him. What the fuck as going on?

Patting his hand over his breast pocket; pulling out his Blackberry. The number was unknown and almost as though he as scared to see who was calling him - which of course he wasn't - he pressed the button and lifted the phone to his ear.

"H-hello?" He said, having to cough and clear his throat several times to speak.

"Wow," The voice said. Female, defiantly female. "You sound bad Gilbert, I'm not surprised. You were pretty smashed last night."

"Who the fuck is this?" Gilbert, always the charming kind of young man, said.

In return the voice laughed and another muffled voice spoke in the background making the stranger on the phone laugh some more. "God, Gilbert. It's me Elizbeta. I was hoping that by some off-chance you would remember but you were shoving your tongue down Francis' throat for some of it." Gilbert paused. Ignoring Antonio leaning in to hear th other side and asking who was calling him. Elizabeta had called him, for whatever strange reason she had called him and this was the first contact (other than the night before that Gilbert couldn't remember and from what Antonio had told him he probably wouldn't want to) in years. And he was hung over. And now he knew it as her he guessed she was probably in bed with her _boyfriend. _"You gave me your number last night, told me t call you when you had sometime to spare and you were not seemed a rare occasion so I thought I'd call early. At least I avoid drunk Gilbert, I saw enough of him last night."

Gilbert guessed from the giggle that she may have actually _seen_ rather a lot of him. Well, it couldn't get any worse. He laughed "Ah, what's wrong pretty miss? Cannot stand to see a hot piece of ass like me?"

"Not when that ass is trying to fuck my boyfriend in front of me." _Fuck_. "To be serious though Gil you sure do know how to make a girl happy."

And this. This was what Gilbert was missing. The easiness. No awkward parts and lack of conversation between anecdotes. It flowed steady and quick. A comfort after so long of feeling alone that Gilbert felt somewhat sad that this was just a phone call and they were not talking face to face. No silence, no long terrible stares. So Gilbert decided to take a chance.

"So, you wanna meet up? Not now. Killer headache and I need food but tomorrow?" Just this once and hoped to a God he didn't belive in that fate was on his side.

He heard the voice again, not Elizabeta's. Probably Roderich's. Before she giggled and gave a soft reply. "I'd love to."


End file.
